We're two games into the baseball playoffs, and all four series are at 2-0. As the teams travel to different stadiums for Game Three, how is each team preparing?
Boston vs. Los Angeles of Anaheim - Boston leads 2-0
GM Bill Stoneman: What can we do differently at home?
Mike Scioscia: I don't know. Keep pitching around Ortiz, hope Weaver can come up big on Sunday?
Stoneman: No, for the fans. The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim succeed because of our fans. Down 2-0, ThunderStix and animated monkeys aren't gonna cut it.
Scioscia: I think it might be more appropriate to see if we can find something for Garret's conjunctivitis.
Stoneman: Check out these cowbells. I'm thinking we hand them out at the gates, along with these wooden noisemakers. Cowbell in one hand, noisemakers in the other.
Scioscia: You know, I should really be looking at film of Curt Schilling right now...
Stoneman: So you're thinking, OK, their hands are full, we've maxed out on noise. But I was watching the Cal-Oregon game, and those fans had these little duck calls in their mouths. It was awesome!
Scioscia: Didn't Oregon lose that game?
Stoneman: OK, noisemakers, ThunderStix, cowbells, duck calls, and three new rally videos by Sunday. Can the team grow playoff beards overnight? Oh, and dye them red! Like Spezio! Hey, does anyone on the roster play in a rock band?
Scioscia: (slams door, exits, prepares self for walkoff loss.)
In the parking lot outside of Anaheim Stadium, Dave Henderson stands in a hooded robe. In front of him is a large, bubbling cauldron, sitting atop a pyre of burning Bobby Grich jerseys. Henderson chants quietly under his breath as he adds ingredients to the cauldron: a Gene Autry album, a "Wally World" t-shirt, a lock of Don Sutton's snow-white hair, and a DVD of The Naked Gun: From The Files of Police Squad!. He raises the hood and speaks:
"When Bobby Grich's fly ball bounced off my glove and over the fence, I swore that the Angels would never win another playoff game against Boston."
Henderson pauses to stick a pin into the left shoulder of a Vladimir Guerrero doll, and pour a mysterious fluid onto the eyes of a Garret Anderson figure. Then, Henderson unsheathes a dagger and slices the palm of his hand. Blood drops into the cauldron and is met by thick green smoke.
"Thus I have sworn, thus it shall be. Thus is the voodoo of Hendu."